Unfolding
by dolcegrazia
Summary: She is unfolding, breaking apart. She needs to get better but how? Brooke-centric.


**Author's Note-** This is a one-shot that I have been working on since September, on and off (mostly off…) and it's been really tough to write. I both love it and hate it. The basic idea came to me in August when we first got the spoilers, but I just didn't know how to do the idea justice. I still don't think I did it justice. I think there are a lot of holes and it's sort of disjointed, but that's the feel I wanted to portray. I hope you can "enjoy" it. Please review and let me know what you think.

---xx---

"It was a Tuesday."

"What was, Miss Davis?"

"The day I was attacked. It was a Tuesday."

The therapist's office is dark. The shades are drawn and the only light that creeps in hits Brooke's face in a way that makes her look even more sullen than usual.

"Do you think you can tell me a little more about that day?" the therapist asks. She's a mild-mannered woman who has been counseling trauma survivors for upwards of twenty years. She makes eye contact with her young client, but Brooke quickly averts her gaze away.

"It was eight weeks ago. Eight weeks, two days and 14 some-odd hours." Brooke's face is blank. Her affect is flat and her voice is hauntingly raspy. She continues, "I was closing up my store and someone broke in and I was attacked."

Kathryn, the therapist, shifts in her seat. She's used to a wide range of reactions from survivors, but those cold, seemingly empty women trouble her the most. "Did you know your attacker?" she asks.

"No", Brooke responds as she shakes her head. "I'm sure he was just a lackey for my mother, though."

"Your mother?" Kathryn says. "How does she figure into all of this?"

The young brunette sighs quietly and looks straight at her new therapist. "My mother is a horrible person", she says. "She wants to ruin me and ruin me she did."

"Why would your mother want to ruin you?" Kathryn asks.

Brooke shrugs. It's a question she's been struggling with since her 12th birthday when her parents left her alone for a week to take a cruise to Alaska. "Hell if I knew", she finally says. "She's hated me since the day I was born."

"Hated you enough to hire someone to assault you?"

Brooke is speechless. She doesn't have an answer. Could a mother hate her own child that much? She starts to feel nauseous and subconsciously rests her hand on her aching belly.

"I don't know", Brooke mutters.

"You've been doing that a lot."

"Doing what?"

Kathryn gestures to Brooke's midsection where the girl's hand is still clutching her belly. "You've been resting your hand on your stomach."

Brooke suddenly becomes painfully aware of her physical body. She can hear her heartbeat and she can feel the pain rising in her abdomen. She removes her hand and rests it primly on her lap. "No reason", Brooke says.

"Do you think you can tell me a little more about that Tuesday?" the therapist asks calmly, hoping to get her client to open up.

Brooke slowly picks up the pillow sitting next to her and puts in on her lap. She picks at the fringes and traces the designs with her fingernail as she tries to formulate the right words.

"He broke into the store as I was closing up. He charged at me and threw me to the floor", she pauses as she picks up her head and looks at her therapist. Brooke's eyes are a fierce green, a color she knows they only turn when she's angry or upset.

"You can stop if it gets to be too much for you, Brooke."

"It's okay", Brooke replies. She stops for a beat and then starts again. "He had me pinned down. I couldn't move. He had his hands all over me. Once his hand hit my upper thigh, I stopped resisting. I just couldn't fight anymore."

Kathryn shifts in her seat and a car horn honks outside and Brooke is too aware of everything.

"He wasn't forceful", the young woman says. "I guess he realized that I wasn't going to fight him. He hit me a few times and then pulled my skirt up. I just laid there and let it happen. He raped me and I let it happen." Brooke's eyes start to pool with tears, but she bites her bottom lip and brings her head down before Kathryn can see her cry. There is no point to showing emotion, Brooke believes. Crying didn't solve anything. It couldn't undo the past. It wouldn't make the rape disappear.

"It's painful to relive all of that, I know", the therapist says. "I'm sure you don't feel any better."

Brooke chuckles quietly at Kathryn's ability to read her mind. "I don't feel better, but I don't feel worse. This is the first time I've said it out loud."

"Said what out loud?"

"That I was raped…my friends don't know. Nobody knows. Well, except you", Brooke says, smiling slightly.

"You've shown a lot of bravery today, Brooke. I really commend you."

"There's more", Brooke says. Her eyes start to water again. Her focus moves from Kathryn to the windows to the two clenched fists in her lap.

"Okay…" Kathryn says.

"I'm late…really late."

---xx---

Standing on Haley's doorstep is giving the broken girl a strange feeling of déjà vu. And when Haley opens the door, she finds a very tense and fidgety shell of her best friend.

"Brooke", Haley says. "Come in."

Brooke nods and walks into her friend's home. She notices that it's nearly empty; just Haley seems to be home. And there's the smell of home cooking coming from the kitchen. Brooke's hand goes right back to her stomach as her lunch threatens to escape her body.

"Hi", Brooke says. Her volume is low and she's feeling shy. She's not sure if she's doing the right thing by coming here, but she's starting to fall apart and she needs some sort of support, even just a hug.

"What's going on?" Haley asks.

"I lied."

"Lied about what?"

The two friends are still standing in the Scott foyer and it's making this situation even weirder.

"I, uh, I didn't fall down the stairs."

Haley's eyebrows narrow as she tries to deduce what Brooke is talking about. "Then what happened?" she asks.

The taller brunette shifts from one foot to the other and looks down, taking a sudden interest in the floor. She's about to finally spill her secrets to someone other than her therapist. She's terrified, but she's desperate.

"The store was robbed and I was attacked."

"Oh, G-d…"

Haley leans over to hug Brooke and at first, Brooke flinches but as Haley holds her tighter, Brooke begins to relax into her best friend's arms. The tears begin to escape her eyes and soon she's sobbing harder than she has since that afternoon with Jamie at Quentin's funeral. Haley breaks the hug and grabs Brooke's hand, escorting her to the couch in the living room.

"I can't deal with this", Brooke cries after collapsing onto the couch. "It's all I think about. I can't sleep until I've locked every door and window of my house. Then I check about five times to make sure they're definitely locked. I don't feel safe anywhere. I can't stand my body anymore. It all hurts so much."

"Brooke, I'm so sorry. What can I do? How can I help you?"

"You can't…"

There's a palpable tension in the room. Brooke's gaze comes to rest on a photo of her and Jamie that sits on the coffee table in a delicate frame. She picks it up and begins to study it intently. It's a picture from Jamie's most recent birthday. He's sitting on her lap, cake adorning his face. Brooke is laughing. They're happy.

Haley's eyes never leave Brooke. She doesn't really know what to do and she's afraid that that makes her a terrible friend.

"Brooke…" Haley says softly.

"I wanted a baby so badly. All I've wanted the last few years is a family. All I've wanted is a child to love. But this…" Brooke says. "I can't do this."

"Can't do what?"

"I'm pregnant, Haley."

"What? How?" Haley asks. She notices that Brooke's eyes have started to water again and she lowers her head. It takes Haley another moment but then Brooke's words and their meaning hit the girl like a ton of bricks. "Oh, no. Brooke…you were…?"

"Raped? Yeah."

Haley envelops her friend in another hug but this time, Brooke doesn't break down. She's back to being freakishly calm and detached.

"I wish I knew what to say", Haley says.

"I don't think I can have this baby."

---xx---

She doesn't know how she ended up here. Here, on her ex-boyfriend's porch. She hasn't seen Lucas in weeks and hasn't had a real conversation with him since she gave him Angie's purple monkey. It's been three days since her confession to Haley and Brooke has spent those three days sitting in her house, scouring the Internet for information on abortions. She doesn't have a lot of time left. She needs to figure out what she's going to do and when. Before she could register what was happening, Brooke had driven herself to Lucas' house.

She's been staring at the door for a good long while. She remembers when Lucas painted the door red before asking her to move in to his house instead of moving to California. She also remembers when Lucas painted the door black, his frantic response to Brooke sleeping with Chris Keller. And she remembers the love that she has always felt for Lucas. Finally, she knocks on the door and waits for an answer, nervous and scared.

When the door opens, Lucas is surprised to see who is standing on the other side.

"Brooke?"

"Hi."

The two stand in place, in silence; neither knowing what to do next.

"Are you here to see Peyton?" Lucas asks.  
"No, I'm not", Brooke says. "I'm actually here to see you."

"Oh, okay. Come in", Lucas says. He opens the door fully and steps back, letting Brooke enter. It reminds him of the night almost three months ago when Brooke came to him in a panic because Angie wouldn't stop crying.

"I'm sorry that I didn't call", Brooke says.

"Don't worry about it. What's going on? I heard that you fell down the stairs. I'm sorry that I never came by to check on you. The book stuff has been keeping me busy."

The book stuff has kept Lucas busy but that's not the only reason that he never went to see Brooke. He didn't know what to say to her. He couldn't save her five years ago and he couldn't save her now.

"Yeah, well…" Brooke says. She sits on the edge of Lucas's bed and begins picking at her nails. "It was all a lie anyway."

"What do you mean?" Lucas asks, sitting next to Brooke.

"I didn't fall down my stairs, Luke", the woman says as she picks her head up to look at the boy. "I was attacked."

Lucas's face clearly holds the expression of someone who is stunned. He's silent, trying to find the right words. He reaches out and hugs the young woman and she folds into his arms. She's not crying, really. Her eyes are welling with tears but they're not falling.

"I'm so sorry", Lucas finally says.

Brooke silently nods into Lucas's chest. "I need your help", she says.

"Anything."

Brooke pushes herself out of Lucas's arms and wipes the tears from her eyes with the back of her hand. "Uh, I don't really know how to tell you this, but…the guy…he raped me." Her tone is even, calm, almost disconnected.

Standing up abruptly, Lucas begins to pace around his small bedroom. "I'll kill him", he mutters. "I'll fucking kill him."

"Lucas."

"No really, Brooke. I'll kill him."

"Luke."

"What?"

"I'm pregnant."

The room goes silent and a stunned expression returns to Lucas's face.

"Oh, G-d."

"I don't know what to do", Brooke says. "Well, I'm pretty sure I'm not going to keep the baby. I can't do it. I keep having this dream that I'm sitting in a hospital bed and this baby is lying in front of me. Her eyes are this really dark blue and she's staring at me. But she's not mine. I don't recognize her at all. I don't love her." Brooke takes a deep breath and tears begin to fill her eyes again. She chews at her bottom lip to keep the tears from streaming down her cheeks.

Lucas sits down and again, pulls the brunette girl into an embrace. He misses being close to her, both literally and figuratively. He misses the way her body fits into his. He just misses her and now, he needs to rescue her.

"It's okay, Brooke. Whatever you need, I'll be here", Lucas whispers into Brooke's ear.

"Will you come with me?" Brooke says.

"To where?"

"To the abortion clinic."

---xx---

"Are you okay, Brooke?" Lucas asks. The question comes as the two friends sit on a bench at a park across the street from the women's clinic.

"I guess", she says. "I don't really know. Do you think I'm doing the right thing, Luke?"

Lucas sighs and runs his hand through his buzzed blond hair. It's been almost two weeks since Brooke came to him and told him about what was going on. He agreed to accompany her to her procedure and together, they researched and talked and cried. However, Brooke had never asked him this question. He has been thinking about it constantly, though. What was the right thing? Was there a right thing?

"I can't answer that, Brooke", he says.

"Because you don't know?"

"It doesn't really matter what I think. It matters what you think and what you feel."

"Okay."

The pair falls into a comfortable silence as they stare straight ahead at the clinic's entrance. Brooke's appointment is at 2:30PM. It's just after 1PM now. And ten weeks, three days, and fifteen some-odd hours since the attack.

"What are you thinking?" Lucas says to take the edge off the quietness.

Brooke rests her hand on her belly and adjusts her body so she's turned completely to Lucas. "Remember that night at my store, right before your wedding, when I told you that I came back to Tree Hill because I wanted a family? A baby?"

"Yes, I remember", Lucas says, nodding.

"I was going to tell you that I wanted my own baby, biologically. I wanted to be pregnant, give birth, and have my own baby. And I was going to ask you to be the father."

"Wow."

"But then I realized how ridiculous the idea was and that it'd be too much to ask you and…"

"Okay", Lucas says, interrupting Brooke's rant.

"What?" Brooke says. She removes her hand from her stomach and tears well up in her eyes.

"It would've been okay to ask. I would've said yes."

"Oh."

"Brooke", the boy says softly, taking Brooke's hand into his own, "when all of this is over, however long it takes you to recover, physically and emotionally, if you still want to…I'll do it. I love you, Brooke. You're an amazing woman and a great friend. You don't deserve what's happened to you. When you're ready, I'll do it. We can have a baby."

Brooke can't hold the tears in anymore and they silently begin to fall down her cheeks. "Lucas…" she whispers.

"I'm sorry. Was that the wrong thing to say?"

"No. I just…I don't know what to say."

"It's okay. Let's take things as they come. You're going to get through this, Brooke. I won't let you fall." Lucas says, his voice laden with emotions. He puts his arm around Brooke and she rests her head on his shoulder.

"Thank you." Her voice is soft, barely there, and then there's silence again.

---xx---

It's been just about a year since the attack. About twelve months since Brooke's life was turned upside down and inside out. It's been about ten months since Brooke lied down in a doctor's office, Lucas standing by her side, and had her pregnancy terminated. The last ten months have been hard. Brooke knew that her decision to end the pregnancy was what was best. She could not have her rapist's baby.

It's been ten months but she still cries at the drop of a hat, triggered by almost anything- children playing at the River Walk, the tiny shoes she sees whenever she walks past the shoe store in the mall, the sound of laughter, and whenever she hears Lucas's voice.

She's ready now, though. She's been ready for months. What Lucas said outside of the clinic has been ringing through her mind almost every night as she falls asleep. She knew she had to get better. She still cries, she still grieves, but it's been a year and she's a lot better now. There are new things to count, Brooke reminds herself.

It's been five minutes since she got to Lucas's house. It's been twenty minutes since she took the test. It's been nine weeks since the day that Lucas agreed to Brooke's original plea. She is going to have his baby.

She knocks lightly at Lucas's bedroom door. A minute passes and Lucas opens the door to the woman.

"This feels like déjà vu", he says.

Brooke smiles shyly and unclenches her fist. In her hand is a pregnancy test and as she hands it to Lucas, tears begin to roll down her cheeks.

"Big Fat Positive", she says.

"Oh, wow", Lucas says as he takes a look at the test now sitting in his hands. "It worked. But the doctors said it probably wouldn't work the first time."

"I guess I got lucky. Maybe…maybe the baby has forgiven me", Brooke says. Her posture is stiff and her voice is cracking. Lucas takes her in his arms and she finally relaxes into his chest.

"You're going to be okay, Brooke. You're going to have this baby and you're going to love it and protect it."

"Thanks, Luke. I know this hasn't been easy for you. I'm indebted to you for the rest of my life."

"No, you're not", he says as he walks inside and Brooke follows. "I said yes on my own. You deserve to have this baby and to be happy."

"Thanks…" Brooke says as she sits at the edge of Lucas's bed. She rests her hand lightly on her stomach, unsure of what to do now. "G-d, how is it possible to be so happy and so sad at the same time?"

"Brooke…"

"I mean…I'm more happy than sad. And I'm so grateful. But am I always going to be grieving my first child? Hell, am I even allowed to grieve for a child that I got rid of?"

"I don't know. I think that when this baby comes, the pain might lessen a bit."

"Yeah…thanks again. You've helped me so much. I really cannot wait to see what's going to happen in the next seven months", Brooke says. "I think it's going to be good."

"I think so, too, Brooke. I think so, too…"

---xx---

"It was a Tuesday."

"What was, Miss Davis?"

"The day my daughter was born. It was a Tuesday."

"Do you think you can tell me a little more about that day?" The mild-mannered, kind-spirited therapist asks. She smiles a little at her client, proud of the progress that Brooke has made in treatment and in her life.

"It was six weeks ago; six weeks, five days, and ten hours. Things are better now. G-d, she's so beautiful. Ten fingers, ten toes, she's the tiniest thing I've ever seen. She's got my dimples…her father's blue eyes. She smiled at me the other day and it almost made my knees buckle." Brooke smiles widely but then becomes serious again very quickly, almost afraid to feel any kind of joy. "I didn't think it'd be possible to be happy after what happened. But then I look at my child and I feel very at peace. And I know that I've done the right thing and as cliché as it sounds, maybe everything has happened for a reason. I'm starting to get my life back."

---xx---


End file.
